


The One Thing Missing

by Sportscandycollective



Category: LazyTown
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Courtship, Elf Sportacus (LazyTown), Fluff and Humor, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Secret Friends Day 3.0, Stingy is a horrifying child, romantic advice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-11
Updated: 2017-10-11
Packaged: 2019-01-15 23:55:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12331392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sportscandycollective/pseuds/Sportscandycollective
Summary: My Secret Friends Day 3.0 gift for @guacamolefluff on Tumblr!They requested something with Robbie and Stingy interacting, and also mentioned liking Stixel and Sportarobbie. So here's a fluffy short piece medieval AU.Lord Rotten is called upon by Prince Stingy for some important advice.NOTICE: PLEASE DO NOT REPOST MY WORK ONTO OTHER WEBSITES.





	The One Thing Missing

A knock preceded the sound of the wooden door creaking open.

“Lord Rotten? The prince requests your presence immediately.” Said the guard softly.  
Lord Rotten sighed exasperatedly and set his quill to the side.  
“Can’t it wait? He knows I’m flooded with requests for battlement designs.” He said.  
“He sounded quite insistent, sir. He says it’s of utmost priority.” Answered the guard.  
“He says that about _everything_.” Groused the lord.  
“Well, I’m fairly certain that this time it is truly of utmost priority.” Said the guard more urgently.  
Lord Rotten pursed his lips and ran a hand through his hair. He stared for a moment at his drawing desk, littered with designs and concepts for catapults, battalions, oubliettes, and other similar defensive machines. He’d spent days trying to create something innovative for the prince’s army, but had run into a creative wall with every attempt. As much as he hated to admit it, perhaps addressing the prince’s needs would give him the much-needed reprieve to collect himself and start fresh with his latest task.  
“Very well. I’ll be in the throne room shortly.” He answered tiredly.  
“Thank you, sir.” Said the guard as he closed the door.

Then again, as Lord Rotten strolled past the lines of attentive guards, all decked in garbs of yellow, he began to doubt just how much of a mental reprieve assisting the prince would offer him. Ever since the kingdom’s beloved king passed away and his throne was taken by his young son, Lord Rotten felt his life had become one increasing migraine. The prince, aged thirteen but with the composure of a seven-year-old, had nary the maturity nor the tact to truly rule the kingdom with any success. Thus, until he reached the age of adulthood, members of the royal circle, such as Lord Rotten, were the true leaders of the kingdom, though their jobs were thankless. Prince Stingy, as the acting ruler, profited from their hard work, while the lords and ladies could only applaud him for his “sage actions”.  
If it wouldn’t get Lord Rotten thrown into the dungeons, he’d gag at the mere thought.  
Of course, if the issue ended at just him being forced to work behind the scenes to make sure the kingdom didn’t collapse under the bratty fist of the tiny tyrant, that’d be one thing.  
No, what made it worse was how much Prince Stingy took advantage of his new position of power to attain what he desired.  
And how much he attained.  
The prince’s zoo was a veritable menagerie that held multiple animals from every continent. He had a stable full of the fastest stallions and strongest draft horses in the country. He dressed in the finest clothes, made of silks and dyed with colors beyond the imagination. And his treasure rooms were stuffed to the ceiling with the most lustrous of gems, the shiniest of coins, and the most impressive of trophies and spoils of journeys and quests he never could embark on, not even in his wildest dreams.  
Yet still, the prince was perpetually unhappy, and only desired more.  
Part of Lord Rotten wanted to see the child be hoisted by his own, greedy petard. However, he knew how messy the overthrow of a royal family could be, and the less of that he could see in his lifetime, the better.

Lord Rotten adjusted his own robes, dyed in a rich wine color (a gift from the previous king), and nodded towards the guards, who opened the double doors with in-sync precision. The darkened hallways were flooded with both the sunlight from the wide windows and the shine that reflected off the piles of gold and jewels that lined the areas near the prince’s throne.  
Robbie squinted, but never shielded his face. He knew how much the prince required his subjects and servants to admire his wealth as much as he did. Even at the cost of their vision.  
Strolling up the crimson carpeting, his eyes momentarily flitting up to the long banners of blue and yellow, he stopped a few feet away from the gilded throne, clicking the heels of his boots together.  
The prince stopped his daily game of counting his money and set the coins in a neat stack on the arm of the throne. He turned his attention to the lord and, for a moment, Lord Rotten was taken back by how tired and distraught the young prince looked. Sure, the prince would look enraged, or petulant, or despondent over his perceived “lack” of gold and jewels. But tired? Distraught? This was foreign.  
“Your majesty.” Lord Rotten said flatly, giving the prince a shallow bow.  
Prince Stingy gave a curt nod in response.  
“Lord Rotten, I’m glad you’ve arrived.” He said, his voice conveying weariness.  
Lord Rotten stood up straight, giving the prince a look of polite concern.  
“Is there something the matter, your majesty?”  
Prince Stingy sighed dramatically, and turned his gaze towards the glistening piles of gold.  
“Lord Rotten, look upon my piles of gold coins. Tell me, how many coins do you believe I own in _my_ extensive collection?” He asked.  
“Clearly not enough, my prince.” Lord Rotten noted with a hint of sarcasm.  
The prince missed the tone of sarcasm and nodded.  
“True, very true. I do have many coins, but I could always use more. But that is not my concern.” Prince Stingy said.  
He gestured towards the western window, where the stables could be distantly seen.  
“My horses, my noble steeds. They are the fastest in the land, are they not?”  
“Of course they are, my prince. There is no chance that they are not.” Lord Rotten responded.  
Prince Stingy twisted his nose.  
“Do I sense _sarcasm_ in your voice, Lord Rotten?”  
“Never, my lord.” Lord Rotten said flatly.  
Prince Stingy shifted in his seat, throwing the tail of his blue cape over the throne’s arm.  
“I thought not.”

Silence held for only a moment before the prince continued.  
“Lord Rotten, would you say that I truly have everything that a prince could desire?” he asked, his voice sounding slightly hopeful.  
Lord Rotten decided to be polite and take a moment to think, ponder if there was something, _anything_ , the prince could be missing.  
“ _A swift kick in the butt would be needed._ ” He thought to himself. He had to fight back a snicker.  
“Oh, my prince, I believe you truly are the wealthiest prince in the land. There must be little or nothing that you lack.” Lord Rotten said, forcing a strained smile.  
Prince Stingy frowned and shot up onto his feet.  
“That’s where you’re wrong, Lord Rotten! I _am_ missing something, and that is what distresses me!” He said angrily.  
Lord Rotten jumped backwards, a nervous shiver running through his body as his heart jumped into overdrive. Placing a hand to his chest, he waited for his heart to calm down before he responded.  
“T-Then, what is it that you’re missing, your majesty?” he asked uneasily with a weak smile.  
The prince’s fury subsided near instantaneously, his eyes falling. He sighed and shook his head, sitting back down on his throne.  
“Lord Rotten, the only thing I lack is someone to call my love. That is what I desire.” He said.  
“ _Funny, I figured your love for yourself sufficed_.” Lord Rotten immediately thought, but he dares not say that.  
“Well, your majesty, I’m sure we could arrange for the fairest young maidens of the kingdom to be brought before you so you may find a sufficient love – “  
“No no, that is not necessary, and I will not hear another word of that.” Prince Stingy snapped. His expression softened once more. “I already have my heart set on someone.”  
Now Lord Rotten was genuinely curious.  
“Who is the maiden, my prince?” he asked.  
Prince Stingy gave the lord a look, an incredulous look.  
“He is no _maiden_ , Lord Rotten.” Said Prince Stingy, spoken as if what he said was obvious fact. He shook his head. “No, I have fallen for King Íþróttaálfurinn’s page. His name is Pixel.”  
Lord Rotten’s eyes widened. Truly he did not expect such an answer. Then again, he thought back to the last visits they’d made to the elven king’s court. Perhaps had he realized it back then, he might’ve noticed how the stubborn and petulant prince’s gaze would shift, perhaps to a softer look, when the page would walk into the room with various paperwork, weaponry, and occasional drinks for the dignitaries. Honestly, Lord Rotten just assumed the prince was thinking about his money again, but he supposed he should give the prince more credit. (Though he probably still wouldn’t.)  
“I see, your majesty.” Was all he could say in response.

Prince Stingy jumped once more to his feet, standing tall and authoritatively.  
“I must have him for my own, Lord Rotten! I will not let another day pass until he is in my court! Send for him this instant!” He said determinedly.  
Lord Rotten’s face paled.  
“M-My prince, I’m afraid I can’t. A page currently serving another cannot leave their post! And still, you cannot force him to move here!”  
Prince Stingy frowned. “And why not? I’ve fallen in love with him and I want him here! I want him to be _mine_ , and you must bring him here!”  
A bolt of anger coursed in Lord Rotten’s heart, and finally he couldn’t stand it. The prince’s selfish attitude had always grated upon him, but the harm he caused with his greedy behavior was…well, not temporary, but it could always be worse. But now? Wanting to forcefully, for lack of better words, _own_ another being? That was too far.  
Appalled, Lord Rotten frowned and said, “No, Prince Stingy, I refuse.”  
Prince Stingy’s eyes widened in genuine shock.  
“What did you just say?” he said coldly.  
Lord Rotten felt his resolve falter momentarily. He was reminded of just how dangerous of a situation he’d placed himself in. Too much backtalk, too much angry response, no matter how deserved, could land him in prison, in exile, or at the guillotine if he was unlucky. But he also couldn’t back track, not now. He’d have to continue, but with perhaps a bit more tact. Gulping down a thick breath, he continued.  
“My prince you cannot possibly believe that forcing someone into servitude in such a way you desire is right. And even if you were successful, you couldn’t possibly believe they’d love you back, could you?” He finally said, trying to temper his anger.

The prince initially looked poised to respond with fury and disgust, but he paused. He furrowed his brow, his eyes scanning the floor in thought. Lord Rotten could see his lips mouth silent words of contemplation, perhaps looking for a possible way that his plan could succeed. Seemingly finding nothing, he sighed, and pursed his lips.  
“I suppose…you would be correct.” He finally admitted. He looked back up at the lord, his gaze a tempered mix of determination and despondency. “But, you understand that I must, _must_ , have his love back. My great wealth would be incomplete without it.”  
Lord Rotten sighed. “Yes, I understand that, my prince.”  
The prince’s eyes lit up.  
“Lord Rotten, you are old, are you not?”  
Lord Rotten looked indignantly at the prince, but nonetheless responded with a controlled patience.  
“I am _older_ than you, yes.”  
“Then love must be the one thing you understand better than I.” The prince said, sitting back on his throne, tenting his hands together. “Tell me, Lord Rotten, how may I attain the page’s love? How may I get Pixel to love me back?”  
Lord Rotten shifted his balance back and forth, and he blew an exasperated sigh through his nose, his eyes widening as he thought quickly. He dares not admit to the prince that his experience with romance was…limited, to say the least. Mostly composed from the romantic literature he’d read in his scant free time and…common sense. Tapping his fingers against his hip, he decides to try regardless.  
“Well, for one, commanding one’s servants to forcefully remove them from their home to live in their kingdom is not ideal.” He started.  
“I’ve gotten that part, genius.” Prince Stingy interrupted.  
Lord Rotten frowned.  
“Well, then if his highness is so wise, then I guess I’ll say that the way to entice love from another is to show kindness and compassion. Those two usually stir love from the heart.” Lord Rotten noted.  
The prince crooked his lip.  
“Hmm, but the same could be said of friendship or companionship, can it not?” He asked.  
“I guess it can.”  
“Then I need better advice.” Prince Stingy said flippantly. “How can I show my wish for his _love_? Kindness and compassion is fine, but what will truly show him my love?”

Lord Rotten sighed exasperatedly, running a hand through his hair. He continued to remind himself to hold his tongue, since he still liked having his head attached to his neck.  
“Prince Stingy, perhaps the best way to show your love for him is to share something with him. Something special and unique.” He said tiredly.  
Prince Stingy nodded thoughtfully.  
“Now we’re getting somewhere. Yes, that makes sense.” He said. He snapped his fingers. “I shall send him two of my elephants! I believe he’ll find those quite marvelous.”  
Lord Rotten gave the prince a look, despite himself.  
“And where, my prince, would a page like himself store such beasts?”  
Prince Stingy gave the lord a look right back.  
“His store houses, of course.”  
“Pages don’t generally _have_ store houses, my prince.”  
“No?” said Prince Stingy, seemingly surprised. “Well, then I shall send him two of my finest horses. Well…second finest horses.”  
“Prince Stingy.” Said Lord Rotten. “Think. I mean…no, just think for a minute, your highness. From your time with the page, is there anything he seemed to be particularly interested in? Anything that spurred his creative passion and interest?”  
Prince Stingy sat back thoughtfully, tapping his fingers against each other.  
“Well…Pixel does seem quite fascinated with the battlements. He’s made many a note of his admiration for the engineering. I don’t quite share his fascination, but he seems taken by their construction.”  
“Then it’d be prudent of you to give him a tour of our battlements, yes?” Lord Rotten suggested, looking hopefully at the prince. Hopefully for this conversation to be over, that is.  
Prince Stingy paused, then slowly nodded.  
“Yes…yes that would make sense. Yes…yes! Yes, that is wonderful. That should do the trick.” Said the prince. A smile crossed his face. “Then I can show him _my_ favorite part of the castle. My royal gardens; he’ll _adore_ how the blossoms look at this time of the year.”  


The prince grew more excited as he clapped his hands.  
“Messenger!” he called.  
The messenger, a lanky young man with tired eyes, fumbled and stumbled into the throne room. Neither Lord Rotten nor Prince Stingy paid him much heed as he tripped on a lump in the rug and rolled, only stopping once he was at the foot of the throne.  
Shooting back up into a standing position, he gave a quick bow with a silly grin.  
“Your excellency?” he asked.  
Prince Stingy rolled his eyes.  
“Send an invitation to King Íþróttaálfurinn’s page, Pixel, this instant. Tell him that I extend a royal invitation to lunch and a tour of our battlements, and that I will arrange a carriage to pick him up next Tuesday.” He said authoritatively.  
The messenger looked quite surprised, but nonetheless gave a quick bow.  
“Right away, your majesty!” he said hastily, before walking/stumbling back out of the throne room and into the hallway.  
Prince Stingy shook his head at his messenger’s antics before turning his attention back to his lord.  
“Thank you, Lord Rotten. You are dismissed.” He said.  
Lord Rotten felt a mixture of disappointment, annoyance, and relief at this newest command.  
“Thank you, your highness.” He grumbled, turning on his heel and strolling towards the doors.  
“Wait, Lord Rotten.” Prince Stingy suddenly said.  
Lord Rotten stopped in his tracks and turned back towards the prince, his expression one of strained patience.  
“ _Yes_ , my prince?” he asked.  
Uncharacteristically, a small, genuine smile crossed the prince’s face.  
“My dear departed father taught me long ago that when someone aids you with something you find especially important, it is virtuous to give them something in return.” He said. “I believe you’ve helped me with something very important to me, so I must give you something very important in return.”  
“Please, Prince Stingy, your gratitude is more than enough.” Said the lord hurriedly. All he wanted was to be out of the throne room as soon as possible.  
Prince Stingy’s smile faded.  
“No, I don’t believe it is. There must be something you desire. Something that would repay your time and wisdom.” He said coaxingly.  
“My prince, I am _most_ satisfied just being your lord. I need nothing more.” Said Lord Rotten. He nearly puked just saying that sentiment.

Prince Stingy frowned.  
“When you speak like that, I’m not prone to believe you.”  
“Oh? You aren’t?” said Lord Rotten, letting his indignance slip.  
Prince Stingy sat back stiffly.  
“I’ll choose to ignore your response in light of your recent kindness.” He said, noticeably irritated. He sat back and thought for some time, leaving Lord Rotten to stew in his frustration and need to get back to his work.  
Finally, the prince smiled and sat back up.  
“Ah, yes, I have it. I know what you desire.” Said the prince.  
“Oh, and what is that, my prince?” Lord Rotten inquired. He expected the prince to suggest something like a golden ruler, or perhaps a lifetime supply of drafting paper. Or a new puppy, to replace his recently deceased pet Sugar Pie. Actually, he wouldn’t mind that last one.  
A mischievous grin crossed the prince’s face.  
“When we are next in King Íþróttaálfurinn’s court, I shall inquire upon your behalf the eligibility of his son, Prince Sportacus. And, if he is available, I shall attain his hand for you in marriage.”

That statement made Lord Rotten’s face both run white and pink, and left his head fuzzy in shock, denial, horror, and confirmation.  
Every thought in his head jumbled together, failing to form cohesive thoughts. All that appeared solid and understandable were memories of the elven prince, the one he’d first seen at a friendly athletic competition between the two kingdoms three years ago. The prince had competed in horseback archery against the then king, Stingy’s father. The two had fought head to head and Sportacus emerged triumphant, his blond hair flowing in the wind and his smile infectiously endearing.  
He’d barely spoken to the prince, both due to the distance between their kingdoms and his own duties as a royal advisor. But the memory of the prince, and their brief exchanges, sent the butterflies within his stomach a flutter and left his face, no doubt, a mess of pink.  
Trying to salvage the situation, Lord Rotten frowned and responded angrily.  
“N-Now wait, you aren’t – I don’t want – didn’t we just talk about – n-no! Why would I want something like that?!” He sputtered.  
Prince Stingy waved away his concerns.  
“At ease, Lord Rotten. Don’t worry, I wouldn’t do such a rash action. It would be unreasonable of me to ask such a favor from the king.” He said.  
Lord Rotten’s tension settled, and for a moment he felt relief.  
“But, I shall put in a good word on your behalf for the prince. And at the next summit, I’ll grant you extended free time with the prince, so perhaps you two can be better acquainted. Allow your clear infatuation to blossom as it so properly should.” Prince Stingy said with a smirk.  
Relief gone.  
“ _P-Prince Stingy_ ,” Lord Rotten said more firmly. “I am _not_ infatuated with the elven prince.”

Prince Stingy raised an eyebrow and gave the lord a look.  
“Lord Rotten, you can’t possibly believe me as stupid, do you?” he asked. He paused. “Don’t answer that, or I’ll send you to the dungeons.”  
Lord Rotten bit his tongue.  
“What I meant was I’ve seen how you gaze upon King Íþróttaálfurinn’s son, and while I may not have the most knowledge on romance, I understand that that is not the look you give a friend.” He said with a knowingly.  
Lord Rotten could not form a response, his tongue laying in knots. His face burned a brighter red.  
“And I know that you’ve spent any free time you’re granted on the summits searching out the prince’s company, and that you’ve written poems about him.”  
“Your majesty, that is simply not true!” Lord Rotten said frantically.  
Prince Stingy simply, and casually, pulled out a piece of parchment from his pocket, Lord Rotten’s handwriting peeking out from behind the fold.  
“Shall I read it out loud, Lord Rotten?” he said baitingly.  
Lord Rotten could only stare, mortified. His face burned as red as a tomato.  
“I thought not. I shall have a word with the elven king once I see him next. See if I can attain the audience of Prince Sportacus for you.” He said, crossing towards a side door towards his chambers. Pausing, the prince said, “Oh, and you may thank me later. You can start by not lying to me again. Not that you were that good at it. Your face gave you away.”  
Lord Rotten’s flustered blush was soon replaced with an embarrassed blush. He turned his gaze down towards the floor and refused to look back up at the prince as he left the room.

With a loud and exasperated sigh, Lord Rotten stormed back to his chambers, trying to hide his still present blush on his face as he sped along. Slamming the door behind him, he sat back at his drawing table. After several minutes, he groaned. He’d hoped, rather fruitlessly, that the meeting with the prince would clear his mind, but it was only more distracted than ever.  
One thing was for sure though. No matter how well his now inevitable meeting with the elven prince would go, Prince Stingy would _never_ receive the gratitude he was looking for from Lord Rotten.

**Author's Note:**

> And everyone eventually falls in love, Stingy is no longer a brat, and they all live happily ever after.
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy this! I sort of decided to write this after watching the Prince Stingy episode, and for whatever reason this became the product of watching that episode. Hopefully it's good and fluffy XD
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
